Part I.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I ran my hand down my chest and panted for breath. I looked to my left and saw that my bed was empty - save for my cat. He quietly meowed and looked up at me with loving eyes. Ah, my one true friend, always there by my side when I needed someone to hold.
I lightly stroked his fur as I looked over at my alarm clock. 5:24 am. God, how revolting. Waking up before the crack of noon is not a task that I enjoy. I stretched my arms and yawned silently as I was thinking of what today would bring. This was the day that my parents were shipping me out to an all-boys' academy. They seemed to have this idea that the Academy would cure me of my problems. I didn't think that I had any, but my parents disagreed.
I bent down to kiss my kitty gently on his head and then lay down to go back to sleep. Before I knew it, I was in a new land. Free from my bastard father. Free from my weak little mother. Away from the quaint ideas of their Baptist upbringing. I was floating in the air, free as a bird. My arms were outstretched as the wind tossed through my dark-brown hair. I occasionally had to close my eyes so they wouldn't be burned by the wind's incessant beating. I looked below me and saw a mountain as brown as the purest earth, and below that, a valley as green as a farmer's wildest fantasy.
I swooped down to this land. I wanted to be here. This is where I belong. As I swooped down, I saw a beautiful hand reaching out to me. It wanted me. I was not an outcast; I was one with this hand. I reached out, like God to Adam in the Sistine Chapel, and as our fingers met - Fire trucks whooshed by. I shook my head as my weary eyes opened and looked at my alarm. Damn. I had set my clock to awake me with the sound of the French police instead of the radio starting. Oh well. I stretched and turned off the alarm. My kitty was still by my side. I doubt he'd moved the entire night.
I stretched my legs and let out an audible yawn and my feet made contact with the ground. I stood up, my six-foot-three-inch frame still asleep. I clumsily walked over to the mirror and looked at myself. I winced. I hated looking at myself. I have always thought of myself as unattractive, and the morning cowlick did no good. I shook my head and grabbed a comb, trying to do something with my tufts of unruly hair.
After I had made some semblance of sanity with my hair, I decided to hit the shower. Today would be the day my life would change forever. I might as well face it with dignity. I put my comb back on my dresser and slowly walked to the bathroom.
I closed and locked the door behind me. Of course, before me was another mirror. Lovely. I shook my head and looked down at my boxers, my only article of clothing. I hooked my thumbs inside of them, parallel to my hips, and in one gracious moment slipped the boxers to my ankles. I noticed that beneath my thick, black pubic bush, I was becoming aroused. I don't know why. There certainly wasn't anything to be aroused about while alone in a bathroom. I laughed silently to myself and started the water for my shower.
The water was very cold at first, so I sat adjacent to the tub, waiting for the water to heat. As I lay there, I again saw the vision from my dream. My hand reached forward to become One with his, and as we touched, he pulled me to the ground. His fair hair danced in the wind. I wanted to look at his face, but it seemed almost as if it wasn't - God, that water was burning my hand. I pulled it away quickly and cooled the water, along with my hand. When the water was a humane temperature again, I started my shower.
I turned around as I stepped into the shower, and wet my hair. Droplets of water dripped onto my chest, causing my nipples to become erect. I looked down and noticed that my penis was yet again erect. As it was noted later to me, my chest was like a face, in a sick sort of way. My nickel size red nipples constituted the eyes. The hair that started between and around the nipples went down my chest and spread out, so that it made the illusion of a nose. And my "innie" belly button made the supposed mouth.
I looked at my raging erection and supposed that I should take care of it, lest it should cause me more grief as I was on my way to the Academy. I grabbed my prick and squeezed it gently while rubbing it up and down. I moaned softly to myself. With my other hand, I cupped my above-average size testicles and rubbed them. Then I began to viciously stroke my hard cock up and down while my other hand squeezed my nipples and rubbed my chest. I was breathing heavily at this point while the water splattered against my back. One of my greatest fantasies was being in the shower with a man I love dearly. I closed my eyes and pictured my fair-headed apparition as my hand squeezed my throbbing eight inch penis and stroked it faster and faster.
My goal was not to have a long masturbation session, but a quick one so I could finish what I needed to do. I imagined my fair-headed vision looking at me and kissing me lovingly on the lips, and then turning around to get on all fours. I imagined myself looking confused at him, and then grasping his plan as I grabbed his smooth ass and ran my hand over it. Then I spread him and slowly pressed myself into him - I moaned loudly as I ejaculated into the shower water, and down the drain. I kept jerking my penis as I ejaculated at least five spurts into the water. As I was panting and regaining consciousness, there was a loud knock on the door. "God damn it boy, we all gots to shower! Hurry your sorry queer ass up!" Soon after that, I heard the sound of feet stomping away. I smirked to myself thinking, my, how I love this family.
I soon finished my shower and dressed myself. I hauled out my suitcase as I prepared for the first real move in my life. Goodbye, friends. GOODBYE PARENTS!
Part II.
I groaned as I loaded the final suitcase into the back of the van. Now I know why moving men must hate their jobs. God, all that crap was heavy and clumsy. I slammed down the back door to the van and walked to the sliding door on the side. I opened it and felt the cool air-conditioning hit my sweat-plagued face. I let out a quiet sigh and was met with my father's gracious voice. "Get the hell in here, queer ass. You're wasting my gas and my freon!" I jumped into the van and shut the door.
Quietly, the van backed out of the driveway. I could feel it shift into drive and then gradually gain speed as it made its way onto the highway. I glanced at the van's clock. 11:53 am. Enough time to get me there by two and send me to the "counselor." I shook my head. How on earth did I get here?
It started just a month ago. I wasn't careful enough. My parents are devout Southern Baptists - why didn't I think? I had known that I was gay since who knows when. But in my home, you had to fit the standards. You had to be straight. You had to be a Baptist. You had to be republican. It's like that line from South Pacific's "You've Got To Be Carefully Taught," "...you've got to be taught before it's too late / Before you are six or seven or eight / To hate all the people your relatives hate..." All too fitting.
Needless to say, someone who was alternative like me would not fit into what my parents considered holy. One day while my father and I were in this very van, I decided to blurt out, "I'm gay, you know." I don't think it was taken very well. They took me to a therapist, hoping to cure my ailments. After a few months of this, they found the results to be ineffective. I believe it also had to do with spreading rumors in our town. So they decided to send me to the "most prestigious boys' school in North America," the Glenville Shaw Academy For Boys.
I looked out the window and watched the deforestation of America pass me by. Miles and miles of chain-link fences with signs of poor grammar and spelling, letting all trespassers know that their presence would cause a melee. I guess it is over. My secret is out, and now I am to be punished for being me. Not that I should expect less from my wonderful parents.
"Now listen here, queenie. They gots counselors at this school, so they'll fix you right up. Make you like the rest of them straight-A kids at the Academy," my father said, interrupting my daydream.
"It's too bad they don't have speech therapists." I mumbled. My father turned around to face me, almost hitting a car. He swerved out of the other car's lane, honked at them for being in his way, and continued on even more gracefully so by flipping the other driver off.
"What the hell you say, boy?" He glared at me, showing me that he was the "man."
"Nothing, sir," I replied. Bastard.
I sat there in silence thereafter, thinking about the peace and quiet the Academy would afford me. Serenity... what a perfect thought. I closed my eyes and slept as the sand drifted down the hourglass of time. I opened my eyes to see new scenery. The earth was a purer reddish brown; the grass greener. I noticed that father had turned off the air-conditioning and had the windows open. I inhaled a deep breath of air. I could smell it. Freedom. In a blink, we were before the gates of the Academy.
The metal of the gates was designed in a Renaissance fashion, curling artfully until it was no more. The clean forest green color seemed to accentuate the Academy's illustrious beauty. My father was leaning out his window and speaking to a guardsman. He soon sat upright in his chair again. Silently and gracefully, the gates opened, and my father drove the van over the clear-black pavement.
My father followed the path quickly. He wanted to be rid of me; I could sense it. How one could hate their own child so is beyond me. I looked out my window to the right and saw the cardinal-red brick of the student dormitories. The dormitories were three stories tall, and had windows so clear that they reflected the afternoon sun too perfectly, and were hurting my eyes. I squinted my eyes as I saw a group of boys huddled together, sharing a joke or secret together. About twenty feet from them was a black woman of medium height standing in front of something. I saw a cane shoot out from the side of her. I smiled to myself as I felt the van pull into a driveway.
The van stopped, and I heard the death of the van's sputtering as my father turned off the ignition. Soon sounded the familiar click! of the back door of the van. I opened the sliding door and jumped out. As I jumped out, I met face-to-face with what I swore was a mortician. "Good afternoon, young man, and welcome to the Academy," he said, in an almost dramatic fashion, his right hand stretching out and pointing to it. His voice sounded like Sir Richard Attenborough saying, "Welcome to Jurassic Park" without the English accent. The old man smiled a goofy smile and said, "I am the dean here. My name is Dennis Mordrin. And yours is?" I told him my name and he smiled, looking at my father. "Well Mr. Dowling," Mr. Mordrin said to my father, "I am sure your son will enjoy his time here. Now, let's get him unpacked."
I unloaded all of my things from the van, and my father zoomed off into the sunset. Mr. Mordrin laughed to himself, shaking his head, and took me to my room. My room was on the third story of the dormitory that my father had parked beside; it was small, but livable. Mr. Mordrin watched as I made my bed. When I was done, I put my comforter on top of it and sat down. All that was missing was my kitty. I smiled and wished he was here now. I looked up, and Mr. Mordrin was still standing in the doorway. His face wrinkled even more as he cracked a painful smile. "You've missed lunch," he said, breaking the silence, "and your class schedule will be posted outside your door tomorrow morning..." he trailed off.
I looked at him curiously. What did he want? Mr. Mordrin's old brown eyes seemed to have a spark go off in them as he recalled his thought. "..it will be there in the morning, so you have the rest of the day to yourself. And remember, my office is always welcome to willing visitors. If you want to talk.. I'm there." He smiled, and turned to leave, but stayed there a moment longer before finally leaving. He seemed to have something on his mind, but was afraid to say it. I shook my head, emptying this odd exchange from my head, and proceeded to unpack my things.
After the room was unpacked, I lay down on the bed with a satisfied smile. Here I was in my new home, and it was me. I had unpacked my computer and books, and had put my CD of Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words into my CD-ROM drive. The melody silently sang to me as I rested. I was again in that strange land of my dreams. My fair-headed apparition was skipping away into a Roman-style building, beckoning for me to follow. I followed him, and we ran into a room accented by an enormous fountain. It seemed to go up and up; its peak hit the ceiling. I took his hand, and we ran under the fountain.
I gasped as I awoke. God, I always wake up when it gets good! I shook my head and stood up, looking at my alarm clock. 3:52 p.m. Had I been here that short of a time? I opened my door and walked into the hallway. A doorway on the end of my hall was ajar, and I saw light emitting from it. I slowly crept to the door and peaked in. I am not usually a voyeur, but on my previous look at this hallway, I thought I was the only one here. I looked in and could clearly see everything...
A tall, medium built boy, wearing an athletic T-shirt and tight-fitting yellow soccer shorts with a green band on the bottom, sat on a bed next to a young, quiet, but very cute boy. "I thought you wanted to study Biology, Tommy," the young boy said, looking at the more heavily built one. Tommy looked at his young friend and grinned, unbuttoning the boy's striped polo shirt. "Jamie, I do. But I won't need books for it," Tommy said, winking.
"Why are we even in this old room? They never use this floor anymore... except for special kids.. or kids who are thrown in at the last minute," Jamie interjected.
"Exactly," said Tommy. "I'm going to give you something now, Jamie. Something many have dreamed of... but few have had." Tommy slowly stripped off his T-shirt, showing off his muscles to Jamie. Jamie merely slip back further on the bed that they were occupying and gasped. He unconsciously spread his legs. "Do you want me, Jamie?" teased Tommy. "Do you want this?" Tommy continued, indicating his crotch. Jamie merely whispered Tommy's name in reply. Tommy pulled off Jamie's shirt, reveling a skinny frame, which didn't seem to bother Tommy in the least. He removed Jamie's shorts and bent down to Jamie's ear, whispering, "Fuck me!" Tommy then embraced Jamie and thrust his tongue down Jamie's throat. Jamie held Tommy tighter, and his seemingly experienced hands found their way to his muscular friend's bottom, and he squeezed. Tommy ended the kiss and turned around, almost ripping off his shorts.
Jamie moved behind Tommy and spread his jock ass. His pressed his finger in, and thrust his hips forwards. Jamie leaned forward and squeezed Tommy's pectoral muscles as he thrust himself into Tommy. Tommy panted in pleasure and said, "You are as big as I thought." Jamie moaned in response.
I pulled my face from the door. This is a very interesting school indeed. I crept back to my room and decided to relieve my throbbing penis before I made them aware of my presence. I couldn't wait until tomorrow.
Part III.
Apparently, Mr. Dennis Mordrin couldn't wait until morning to give me my schedule. Around 7 p.m., he burst into the room, wearing a pastel suit. It certainly wasn't his color, and he looked like he had teleported directly from the seventies. I shut down my computer and turned to greet him. "Why Mr. Mordrin..." I started, but was cut off.
"Call me Dennis," he said cheerfully. He stared deeply into my eyes. It was as if he were searching my soul for some beacon, and my eyes were the key. His mud-brown eyes momentarily shifted to the carpetless floor and then met my blue eyes again. "You haven't had dinner," he stated rather than asked, "So you must join me." He removed his pastel blue sportcoat. He caught me looking at it. "It's not quite me, is it?" he asked, cackling. I said nothing, but looked the other way. "Anyway," he said, "let's get to it!" I stood up and followed him out the door.
He picked up something leaning against the doorframe which I had not noticed earlier. It was a dark-brown cane. I noticed that it had two grooves on it, as if something were to fit inside of it. He looked at me and smiled as I begrudgingly followed him out the door. We walked down the stairs of the dorm and out the door. As we walked out, the crickets softly chirped their sweet nighttime song. We walked through the same parking lot that spelled my earlier freedom, I heard a voice in the darkness call out, "Laura!" I tried to find out where this voice came from, but Mordrin tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to his car.
I sighed, shrugged and followed him to his black, rusty Dodge Shadow. I got into the passenger side seat as he started the car. We went to a local Italian restaurant and ate a quiet dinner. All throughout the meal, he kept looking deep into my eyes, as if he were searching for something that wasn't there. His pudgy wrinkled fingers came dangerously close to my own on more than one occasion. I just laughed nervously when he did so.
After about an hour of supping, Dennis, as he asked me to call him, smiled and started to speak. "So tell me, my young friend... why have you applied here in the middle of the semester?" His chubby fingers folded together, like a bird of prey moments from attacking its victim.
"My father thought is best," I quickly replied. Dennis laughed to himself and nodded. "I see. But why now.. and here? You live over a hundred miles away, don't you?"
"Yes, I do, sir. But he chose The Academy because it is one of the best."
"And didn't you have any part in this decision?"
I exhaled softly and said, "Not really."
"Ah, I see," he said, hesitating. "You see, here we like to.. make men out of boys." His pudgy snow white hands were sliding towards my own.
"You know, Mr. Mordrin," I said, my hands sliding away from his, "it's getting late. I should get to bed. I wouldn't want to be late for my first day of class."
"No," he said, smirking, "that would be a pity if you were tardy." I looked into his eyes and no longer saw anything human in them. He seemed to be the eyes of a hunter moments from its prey. "But.. surely you could come to my private office for a nice.. chat." My eyes widened with concern. Why was he doing this? Suddenly, his pager loudly chirped its incessant beep. He seemed to break out of his trance, the human intelligence returning to his eyes. "So, can I go back to my room, now?" I asked pleadingly. He agreed, and we returned to his Dodge Shadow. The next day, my alarm went off at 6:30 am. I got up, bathed in my vacant showered, and went off to class.
My morning classes were uneventful. First was English. Of course. We can't have a "wake up" class in the morning; no. We have to jump right into Honors English. FUN FUN FUN! Honestly though, English is a relatively simple class for me. Grammar comes quite naturally to me. I'm not perfect: I will admit that any day. But I am fairly good at it. Next came Geometry. I have no comment whatsoever about that. Finally, there was Speech. Oh, le joie de vivre. My teacher was one who loves to hear herself talk. She had a slight rasp in her voice. As the class was nearing its end, her voice was still trailing on. Her voice was very irritating, too. Her attitude screamed Giant Bitch! and when she spoke I just wish she'd clear her throat so she could speak normally. God.
"And so, you will be doing five total speeches in this class: one panel discussion, one informative, one inspirational, one persuasive, and one group review. It's going to be fun.. Well, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm the most difficult speech teacher in this school, and I'm going to make your lives hell." She glanced at her watch and continued, "Well, that's all the time we have. Have a pleasant afternoon. You'll need it." We wearily exited the class and went outside, as it was almost noon, which is lunchtime.
The high clock struck noon. The sun was gently dripping its rays upon my skin. It was a gorgeous day, and I felt no pangs of hunger, yet some strange force was driving me towards the cafeteria. Even though I had no idea where it was, the hundreds of bodies walking like sheep being herded to pasture gave me a slight clue. I waited in line for my lunch, and made my way to the tables. This is one thing I hate about new places - you know no one, so you're not likely to find a seat. I passed by an average-looking guy who looked somewhat familiar. He put his hand on my shoulder. I knew it instantly - very friendly, but a jock nonetheless. He smiled at me kindly. "So you're the new guy," he started, rather than asking. I smiled bashfully and admitted to my horrid crime, telling him my name.
"Well Ben," he said, "welcome to Shaw Academy. My name's Tommy, by the way." He graciously permitted me to sit next to him. I wasn't shocked to see his friends wearing blazers with the letters GSA, Glenville Shaw Academy, on them. A soft voice behind us said, "See you later, Tommy." Tommy replied, "Yeah. Later, Jamie."
As my newfound friend began to socialize with his little clique, my eyes shot to the far corner of the room. Two tables were occupied, but all tables surrounding them were vacant. How odd, I thought.
My friend awoke me by mentioning my name. I looked at him and noticed that he and his friends were staring at me. "So this is the new dude." He smiled kindly, and started pointing around the table. "This is Dan Vishosone. He's center of the football team." Dan has light-brown hair, and a thin, slanted nose. I know little of football, but his medium-built body seemed unfit for his sport. He had a few pimples here and there, but looked relatively healthy. I looked into his dark-brown eyes and saw a rage, a fire that seemingly had no spark. Looking at him make me feel uncomfortable.
Part IV.
After he had finished introducing me to everyone, Tommy and his friends began to converse with each other, forgetting me. I quickly finished my meal, disposed of what was left, and walked over to the vacant part of the cafeteria. An African American woman with shoulder-length hair that curled at the very bottom passed by me, whistling a happy tune.
As I approached the vacant tables, I realized why they were so. This was where the "special needs" students sat. Being ostracized was not an unfamiliar social condition for me. There were two tables for the special needs students. To the left was a chubby boy in a wheel chair. His hair was black and curly, and his square-framed glasses kept slipping down his sweaty, pudgy nose. His helper said, "Now Mike, you've had enough food. You know your parents want you to lose weight." Mike looked at his helper with pure loathing hatred in his eyes and stuck up his middle finger at her. She just sighed and shook her head.
To the right was another table. Apparently, the helper was missing from this table. I looked on to see the most beautiful face I had ever seen. But I didn't understand why he was in the special needs area. He was perfect. He was my vision of Adonis.. the man from my dreams.. but with red hair instead of the fair-blonde I had seen. His hair was bright, clean and smooth. Its color was the example by which hair stylists should use when dying hair. It was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to run my fingers through its silky texture and breathe it in. His nose was long, but not too long, and thin, but not too thin. And his lips... they were sensual. They were built to be kissed. His face was smooth oval, perfect in every detail.
I let out an audible sigh, and he turned around. Damn. Caught red-handed. He folded his arms, and said in a crisp British accent, "Well, stop gawking so and step forward. Say what you are going to say and be done with it." God, everything about him was so wonderful. And that accent... just gorgeous. "Well, what do you want," he asked in a very irritated voice.
I stammered, "I.. I ... I just saw you across the cafeteria.."
"Thanks for sharing," he interrupted.
"...and I wanted to say hello." I paused, and he sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, ok? I'm just new here, and I was looking around..."
"And you just happened to stare at the circus midgets over here?" He sighed again and said, "I've lived most of my life like this, so I could care less. But I don't need people like you to point out my problems. I really, really hate people like you." I winced. "Your sword dipped in honey still cuts. Now go back to your friends and.. laugh, laugh, laugh!" I thought I was going to die. I had committed some mortal crime that I didn't know of. What had I done to him? Suddenly, the African American woman that I had seen earlier ran up to this Adonis. She looked at me accusingly and turned back to him.
"Devon, are you all right?" she asked, panicked. Devon stood up, his gorgeous hair reflecting in the light.
"I'm just dandy. I think I've been a freak show here long enough, though. Give me my stick." She handed him a stick with white tape curling around it. They left together. I swallowed my breath, and gasped as I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, Dowling.. Ben.. what are you doing over here?" I turned to look at Tommy's ever-pleasant face. I looked at him and shrugged. "Just checking the place out," I replied.
"Well the freak show isn't much to check out. Come back with us.. There's still about ten minutes. Oh yeah.. where's your dorm?"
"Oh, it's the third floor of the Snyder building," I said. Tommy's face turned white.
"The... third... floor?" he asked, looking very scared. "Were you there... last.. night?" I had to stop myself from giggling.
"Why, did I miss something? A social activity or something?" I asked, straightfaced. Tommy just shook his head.
"Let's get back to the table...." A few minutes later, the bell rang, and the sheep were again herded out to pasture.
Part V.
After lunch, I had World History. I sat in the middle of class. As I got there, I looked toward the back of the class. There in the last seat was what looked like a 14 year old boy. However, I could tell that he was older than that: his face had several untidy whiskers sprouting out everywhere. He noticed me looking at him and started yelling at me. "What the hell is your problem? What are you looking at?" He then sighed, saying, "Jesus Christ." I noticed that Tommy shared this class with me. He came over near my seat and laughed.
"Don't worry about him," Tommy said. "That's Anthony... pure Italian. And the A in his name is for attitude. Basically, his dad left his mom after 20 years or something, and is bangin' some Jewish chick."
"Fuck you, asshole!" Anthony exclaimed.
"And how is Torah girl?" Tommy teased.
"God damn asshole!" Anthony got up and looked like he was about to instigate a fight, but decided to sit down. What a fight it would have been. Tommy was tall and had a medium build, while Anthony was about 5'8" and 120 pounds. I shook my head and smiled as the teacher walked in. The teacher was about my height - 6'3". He was of average weight. He had dark-brown hair and an unending smile. He just screamed le joie de vivre! He couldn't have been much older than I; perhaps he was in his late twenties or early thirties.
"Well class," he said as he set his briefcase on his desk, "it seems as though we have a new face." He was looking at me. God, he wanted me to introduce myself. I hate doing that. I sighed in embarrassment. He motioned me to stand up. I shook my head and did so. "Tell us about yourself."
"Well, my name is Ben Dowling. And I transferred here last night. I'm seventeen." I shrugged in disinterest and sat down. The teacher nodded as men do when they are too lazy to just say "hello" or "fine." I hate that! The teacher continued the class. William the Conqueror. The Battle of Hastings. Blah blah blah. Sands slowly sifted through the hourglass of time. Minutes before class ended, I noticed a short blonde-headed boy leaning against the doorway. The teacher noticed him. "What do you want, Jamie?" he asked, irritated.
"Sorry, Mr. Jakles. I just was waiting for.." he glaced at Tommy, and paused. "..waiting for someone." Mr. Jackles shook his head and smiled.
"Kids," was all he said. At that moment, the bell rang. We exited from class. Tommy was behind me and about to join his jock friends as I stopped him. Before me was my Adonis. He stood in the hall. He seemed to be stumbling forward, as he swung his stick around himself in a circular motion continually. Next to him was a black woman. She seemed to be attempting to help him, but it was obvious that he would have none of that. She persisted, though. Something occurred to me as I stared at this gift from above: he was blind.
"Tommy.. who is that?" I asked, not hiding the love in my voice very well.
"What, the freak? That's Devon, the blind mouse.. heh.. And Lara, indentured servent." I watched Devon a little longer, and the next thing I knew, Tommy had run off. I smiled and went back to my dorm, as my classes were done for the day.
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(as told by Devon)
Lara was being such a pain in the ass. I know, I know. I couldn't make it without her. She's always helping me, but since I'd come to realize that I was gay, she'd become even more to me. But who would want some blind freak? Gay, straight, whatever. I guess that's why my parents put me here. They didn't want to deal with some burden. Well, maybe Lara wasn't really being a pain in the ass. Maybe it was just because I was upset over that voice. I don't know why I get so upset. It's not like being ridiculed was something new. It happens everyday. I guess if the voice were some cruel, soulless being, I wouldn't mind. But the voice was so soft and kind. It almost sounded sincere. But who would want a blind circus freak like me? Of course when you're compared with Mike, that spoiled little fat fuck... I would call myself a freak. Oh well. It was another day at Glenville Shaw.
Another day with my teachers treating me like a frigging porcelain doll. As if Lara wasn't enough! But a strange event happened in my advanced Braille class. Mr. Mordrin, that disturbing principal came in. I could hear his cane approaching. It really disturbs me when I think about that cane. He probably has a belt inside it. That's what it sounds like.. moving from side to side, just waiting for a victim. So he came in and told me to avoid strangers. The nerve!
So anyway, I had finished my Braille class and was walking down the hallway. All I could hear was noise. Thousands of pointless conversations. Feet running, people blowing their noses, people belching as loudly as possible for attention, lockers clicking open, and people banging them when they wouldn't open... it was a cacophony. Lara was trying to grab my arm so she could guide me through the hall - as if I were some sort of lost lamb! Hmph! I may be blind, but I'm not helpless! But she never listens. I think she descended directly from Rosa Parks: she won't take no for an answer. Suddenly, I hear her gasp. I asked her what the problem is. She says, "It's that boy... and he's staring at you." I had by this time lost interest in him in particular, but had become moody overall. But I decided to placate her, so I asked what he looked like. Fat no doubt... a fat jock who plays football and listens to acid rock and drinks Friday, pukes Saturday. But her response was quite different. "Well... he is tall... you're what, five-foot-nine?" Offended, I reminded her that I was exactly five feet and ten and one-half inches. She laughed, excusing herself. You could never really be mad at that woman. No, that would be too easy! "Well, Mr. Five Foot Ten and a half, he's about six feet.. no, taller... but he's a scrawny fellow.. like you, but without the biceps.. and he's got big feet.. you know what THAT means!" She jabbed me jokingly. I told her that it meant he has big shoes. "That too. It also means he is way hun.. ummm... never mind. Damn, boy. I think he has it for you or something."
"Stop teasing me!" I said. I hated it when she joked like that. And that description didn't sound bad. It's times like these that I wish I could see again.. just to know what he looked like. I wanted to experience it myself, not through someone else. But that day will never come. Anyway, I went back to my room... third floor (freak floor, that is!) in the Andrews Building. I rested for a while.
Later, I got up and made my way to the computer. I sat down, and spoke into the microphone: "Time." The computer read out "Six - Fifty - Five." Great. I decided to walk out to the lake and sit in the loveseat. I liked to sit by the lake and feel the breeze on my legs and listen to the swans honk and jump into the water. Such a pleasant sound.
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Devon's soft red hair shone in the moonlight. He was sitting in a redwood love seat suspended in the air by a thick chain. Behind him was a placid pond with a few Canadian Geese swimming to and fro while the crickets sang their sweet melody. I stopped a few feet from where he was sitting and noticed that Lara was nowhere to be found. His walking stick was lying on the wet grass. He shifted his weight and said, "Well, what do you want?"
I sat down next to him. I looked at his beautiful face and smiled. "I'm sorry about earlier," I said.
"I thought it was you. And I'm... I'm sorry too, I guess."
I sighed softly and looked at the scenery. "It's a lovely night."
"I wouldn't know," he coldly replied. I winced at his retort. I squeezed my eyes together, fighting the tears. We sat in silence for what seemed hours. Devon cleared his throat and said, "I wasn't born this way, you know. As a child I was able to see the colors of earth - the autumn brown and gold, the spring's green, the winter's white. And the pale blue sky - going on and on forever, letting you know how infinitesimally small you really are. I can vaguely see the sunset in my mind - the gorgeous pink fading through the horizon. But things got fuzzier and fuzzier. My parents tried glasses of all types, but they did no good. Later, I could make out shapes, and later, just shadows. But then it became all black. My day is night. Can you - can you imagine what it's like to have everything - to have the perfect gift, the gift of sight - and then to lose it all?"
I wiped the tears away and brushed my hand over his. "I can't imagine it, but I would trade my sight for yours. Because I know that I don't want to live my life without you. Devon," I stopped. I couldn't say it. I watched his hand slowly run itself around my waist, his fingers running up my body, brushing past my erect nipples, and down again.
"Lara was right. You are slender." I laughed. "She does tend to tease me, you see. Suddenly, we heard the geese caw and fly away. I turned around to see Mr. Mordrin staring at us.
"What are you doing here?" he angrily inquired. Devon decided to tell Mr. Mordrin exactly what we were doing there.
"Let me see. It's a nice night. I am on campus at a school and I decided to sit on a bench after my school hours, which is my right to do.. correct? So I am enjoying myself for once. What are you doing here is more appropriate. Don't you have to go home... to your family?" Mordrin just folded his arms.
"My.. My car broke down." I smirked. A Dodge Shadow. Figures. "Well where is that nigger bitch of yours?" Mordrin added.
"Ah, if only Rev. Jackson and the NAACP were here!" laughed Devon. "But that is none of my business. I'm sure the KKK runs strong in your blood." Devon got up. "I shall go to bed now. I guess I will speak to you later.... Umm, what is your name?"
"Ben." I replied, watching him walk off. Mordrin just stared at me.
"We have rules here, young man. And new or not, you are expected to obey." he said sternly.
"So when is lights out?" I asked him.
"9:30 pm. And the time is," he said dramatically, pulling out his watch, "7:38.. well, it doesn't matter! That's no excuse for your rudeness!"
"Well, I shall go to bed immediately and torment you no longer," I said, excusing myself as I went to my dorm.
Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, feel free to e-mail me with any questions, comments or concerns you may have. Thanks! =)
David.